Marmaduke laughed at the important intelligence, to which in a variety of shapes he was accustomed, and the sheriff, with an air of great dignity, as if pitying his want of faith, proceeded in the business more immediately be fore them.
As the labor of drawing the net had been very great, he directed one party of his men to commence throwing the fish into piles, preparatory to the usual division, while another, under the superintendence of Benjamin, prepared the seine for a second haul.
CHAPTER XXIV.
“While from its margin, terrible to tell,
Three sailors with their gallant boatswain fell.”
—Falconer.
While the fishermen were employed in making the preparations for an equitable division of the spoil, Elizabeth and her friend strolled a short distance from the group, along the shore of the lake.
After reaching a point to which even the brightest of the occasional gleams of the fire did not extend, they turned, and paused a moment, in contemplation of the busy and lively party they had left, and of the obscurity which, like the gloom of oblivion, seemed to envelop the rest of the creation.
“This is indeed a subject for the pencil!” exclaimed Elizabeth.
“Observe the countenance of that woodchopper, while he exults in presenting a larger fish than common to my cousin sheriff; and see, Louisa, how hand some and considerate my dear father looks, by the light of that fire, where he stands viewing the havoc of the game.
He seems melancholy, as if he actually thought that a day of retribution was to follow this hour of abundance and prodigality!
Would they not make a picture, Louisa?”
“You know that I am ignorant of all such accomplishments, Miss Temple.”
“Call me by my Christian name,” interrupted Elizabeth; “this is not a place, neither is this a scene, for forms.”
“Well, then, if I may venture an opinion,” said Louisa timidly, “I should think it might indeed make a picture.
The selfish earnestness of that Kirby over his fish would contrast finely with the—the—expression of Mr. Edwards’ face.
I hardly know what to call it; but it is—a—is—you know what I would say, dear Elizabeth.”
“You do me too much credit, Miss Grant,” said the heiress;
“I am no diviner of thoughts, or interpreter of expressions.”
There was certainly nothing harsh or even cold in the manner of the speaker, but still it repressed the conversation, and they continued to stroll still farther from the party, retaining each other’s arm, but observing a pro found silence.
Elizabeth, perhaps conscious of the improper phraseology of her last speech, or perhaps excited by the new object that met her gaze, was the first to break the awkward cessation in the discourse, by exclaiming:
“Look, Louisa! we are not alone; there are fishermen lighting a fire on the other side of the lake, immediately opposite to us; it must be in front of the cabin of Leather-Stocking!”
Through the obscurity, which prevailed most immediately under the eastern mountain, a small and uncertain light was plainly to be seen, though, as it was occasionally lost to the eye, it seemed struggling for existence.
They observed it to move, and sensibly to lower, as it carried down the descent of the bank to the shore.
Here, in a very short time, its flame gradually expanded, and grew brighter, until it became of the size of a man’s head, when it continued to shine a steady ball of fire.
Such an object, lighted as it were by magic, under the brow of the mountain, and in that retired and unfrequented place, gave double interest to the beauty and singularity of its appearance.
It did not at all resemble the large and unsteady light of their own fire, being much more clear and bright, and retaining its size and shape with perfect uniformity.
There are moments when the best-regulated minds are more or less subjected to the injurious impressions which few have escaped in infancy; and Elizabeth smiled at her own weakness, while she remembered the idle tales which were circulated through the village, at the expense of the Leather-Stocking.
The same ideas seized her companion, and at the same instant, for Louisa pressed nearer to her friend, as she said in a low voice, stealing a timid glance toward the bushes and trees that overhung the bank near them:
“Did you ever hear the singular ways of this Natty spoken of, Miss Temple?
They say that, in his youth, he was an Indian warrior; or, what is the same thing, a white man leagued with the savages; and it is thought he has been concerned in many of their inroads, in the old wars.”
“The thing is not at all improbable,” returned Elizabeth; “he is not alone in that particular.”
“No, surely; but is it not strange that he is so cautious with his hut?
He never leaves it, without fastening it in a remarkable manner; and in several instances, when the children, or even the men of the village, have wished to seek a shelter there from the storms, he has been known to drive them from his door with rudeness and threats.
That surely is singular to this country!”
“It is certainly not very hospitable; but we must remember his aversion to the customs of civilized life.
You heard my father say, a few days since, how kindly he was treated by him on his first visit to his place.”
Elizabeth paused, and smiled, with an expression of peculiar arch ness, though the darkness hid its meaning from her companion, as she continued: “Besides, he certainly admits the visits of Mr. Edwards, whom we both know to be far from a savage.”
To this speech Louisa made no reply, but continued gazing on the object which had elicited her remarks.
In addition to the bright and circular flame, was now to be seen a fainter, though a vivid light, of an equal diameter to the other at the upper end, but which, after extending downward for many feet, gradually tapered to a point at its lower extremity.
A dark space was plainly visible between the two, and the new illumination was placed beneath the other, the whole forming an appearance not unlike an inverted note of admiration.
It was soon evident that the latter was nothing but the reflection, from the water, of the former, and that the object, whatever it might be, was advancing across, or rather over the lake, for it seemed to be several feet above its surface, in a direct line with themselves.
Its motion was amazingly rapid, the ladies having hardly discovered that it was moving at all, before the waving light of a flame was discerned, losing its regular shape, while it increased in size, as it approached.
“It appears to be supernatural!” whispered Louisa, beginning to retrace her steps toward the party.
“It is beautiful!” exclaimed Elizabeth,
A brilliant though waving flame was now plainly visible, gracefully gliding over the lake, and throwing its light on the water in such a manner as to tinge it slightly though in the air, so strong was the contrast, the darkness seemed to have the distinctness of material substances, as if the fire were imbedded in a setting of ebony.
This appearance, however, gradually wore off, and the rays from the torch struck out, and enlightened the atmosphere in front of it, leaving the background in a darkness that was more impenetrable than ever.
“Ho! Natty, is that you?” shouted the sheriff.
“Paddle in, old boy, and I’ll give you a mess of fish that is fit to place before the governor.”
The light suddenly changed its direction, and a long and slightly built boat hove up out of the gloom, while the red glare fell on the weather-beaten features of the Leather-Stocking, whose tall person was seen erect in the frail vessel, wielding, with the grace of an experienced boatman, a long fishing-spear, which he held by its centre, first dropping one end and then the other into the water, to aid in propelling the little canoe of bark, we will not say through, but over, the water.